Mary-Veronica
She isn’t actually Mary-Veronica. First she was Veronica, and then, after I gave her $140 but before she gave me her address, she became Mary.
andy and emily and markus and me
The apple tree shines, and someone puts on Springsteen before the fireworks start. New girlfriends, new jobs, new lives.
As a Mother
You know that saying, “Mother knows best”? It’s a saying for a frickin’ reason. We’re the backbone of every decent household in America.
Going Green
Ten-foot-tall green letters shout 21+ MARIJUANA to every northbound vehicle on Martin Luther King Jr Way. The arrow that runs beneath the letters points across the street to a stubby building marked by a green cross. 21+ Recreational Marijuana! hangs in the front window.
Playing Hot Potato With Kindness
I want selfless people to have blissful, perfect lives. When I argue with someone about selfishness, I want to point to loving families and say, “See? This is possible. This is good,” but I can’t.
I Want a God Like NASA
I don’t feel comfortable when people talk about God’s perfect plan, probably because I don’t believe in it.
Love Is a Sentence
We promise love between sheets and in delivery rooms and at hospital bedsides. We say “God is love” and “the greatest of these is love.” But when it comes down to it, whenever we talk about love, none of us are really saying the same thing.
I’m scared she gonna die
I write a check to my church. I send twenty bucks to missionary friends in Romania. You got a dollar, buddy?
Tea and Tranquility
I discovered tranquility in that teahouse. I didn’t even recognize it at first, not until after we slipped off our shoes and backpacks and followed the woman inside, and not until after we padded across tatami floors to sit criss-cross in a plain room.
This Is a Lie
Turns out it’s a myth. An urban legend perpetuated because it’s good for you. It gets kids to brush their teeth, reduces sugar intake. Establishes good habits.
PunchTrump Love
I don’t know about Saudi Arabia. I’m not rich, either. I don’t lead an empire. I don’t have Kurt Cobain’s talent or Robin Williams’ fame or Donald Trump’s confidence. I’m just another guy.
The Internet is Cowboy Country
It’s not a pretty place. The hazy opium dens and the tobacco-smoke saloons disappeared from dusty California mining towns long ago, and they’ve since set up shop here. You want opium? You got it. How about Craigslist prostitutes? pirated textbooks? fake I.D.s or stolen credit cards?
Me and My Book
No one believes it. I didn’t believe it, until I grabbed the bumper, tried to lift, and realized I didn’t even know how to grip the thing. I’m writing about an experience I still don’t fully understand, and the sharing of it is even more incomprehensible.
I Am Failing
I know that the muscled, emotionally stable mountain climber who woos intelligent women, writes bestselling memoirs, and dispenses wisdom to a crowd of intimate friends won’t ever materialize.
Same-Day Devilry
Amazon, for all its bullying and undercutting, holds no monopoly. It is, in fact, the opposite: a monopsonist, a beloved monster reversing the grapes of wrath, in a sense, so product flows like honey while the sellers rot.